The Purple Charger
Greetings to everyone.
Rebecca was out of town this weekend, leaving Xavier and Dad to go bachelor. This morning, we decided to hit the grocery store and pick up some Father's Day cards, butter and a can of chocolate frosting (Dad wanted to bake some brownies).
With Xavier in the shopping cart guiding the way, we found the cards, then quickly identified where to get the butter. The frosting eluded us, and we had to backtrack twice.
As we swung through the toy section, we rounded a corner right into an end cap of Hot Wheels. Xavier, until this point, showed little interest in anything other than riding in the cart. He saw the display and squealed so loud with joy, I am quite certain they heard him on the other side of the store.
I told him he may chose one, then let the squirming boy down. He circled the display, pulling blister pack after blister pack and handed them to me. He did not pull them at random. No, there was definitely a pattern to his choosing.
He stopped filling my hands at six choices. I reiterated the rule: you get one. I flipped through them one by one. He examined it, and quickly made a decision about it, which ended being "put it back on the display."
He ended up choosing a purple, 1969 Dodge Charger 500. He hugged it all the way to the checkout and onto the car. I let him keep the blister pack containing the Charger as we drove home. He happily cooed over it, and made "vroom, vroom" sounds.
We got caught at a light. As we sat there waiting for it to turn green, across the street a purple car pulled up to wait at the same light. As I looked at it, thinking it's the same purple color as Xavier's new Hot Wheel, I noted another fact about it. It was a Dodge Charger. The only difference between the one across the street and the Hot Wheel, so far as I could tell, was the one waiting at the light had a heavy turbo installed on it.